


would you stay up to figure this out?

by tents



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Shotgunning, Smoking, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 15:01:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6244375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tents/pseuds/tents
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>college!AU where clarke and lexa in college and are both simultaneously avoiding and embracing their feelings for one another. while everyone watches. and parties. and does drugs. mutual pining with rooftop conversations and shenanigans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	would you stay up to figure this out?

**Author's Note:**

> please read at your own discretion. i don’t want to be an enabler with this fic bc there’s the use of marijuana and college kids drinking in this. just a fair warning.  
> ALSO i've updated some very minute background details in this so it'll fit in with another fic (possibly series???) i'm writing. i'm gonna call it sunset AU for soon-to-be disclosed and incredibly cheesy reasons. hope you all stick around!

_ isn’t it strange that every time / i look at your name, i’m suddenly high / for you to feel the same, i would do almost anything _

—“coming over” by dillon francis, featuring james hersey

* * *

 

Up on the roof, the night air is crisp and clear and  _ cold _ with the anticipation of the winter quarter. The tiles beneath Lexa’s bare feet seem to be shaking as the party below rages on, music pounding and bass reverberating through the entire neighborhood.

It was a sharp contrast—the stillness of the city above to the commotion of the party below.

The music isn’t as overbearing outside where people can actually hear one another speak. There’s people scattered everywhere, conversing and interacting outside underneath strings of lights and a very faint haze of smoke. The combination casts a warm light over everyone’s faces, oddly romantic despite the party atmosphere.

The air settles over Lexa’s skin, heated from the dance floor, like a blanket: cooling and comforting all at once. Her loose, black top dips low on her back, goosebumps rising over her tattoos as her body adjusts to the night, and her jeans protect her from the coarse rooftop tiling. She leaves her shoes by the window she climbed out of and settles in the shadows on the rooftop out of the periphery of the partygoers, overlooking the backyard and the city in the distance.

She’s not sure how she ended up in a neighborhood right next to school chock full of college students, who ride around on bicycles and skateboards by day and travel in small groups in the streets by night when the books are put away and the music starts playing. Really, she was just following everyone else. Anya had dragged her and the girls out here to let loose for a change, and they had met up with Bellamy and Lincoln and the other boys, Roan and Miller—all of whom were downstairs somewhere, drinking and dancing the night away on the first floor of whomever’s house it was they were at.

It was the end of the first week of their winter quarter (“CHILLABUS WEEK!” Octavia had screamed, and Lexa whispers to Clarke, “Does she mean syllabus week?” and Clarke had laughed. “Nope. Definitely not.”) and students were celebrating in the only way they knew how before classes began: throwing ragers in every house for at least a block before classes officially started.

She takes a breath to still the ache in her chest, which is almost a familiar ache by now—a reminder of what had been. The little pull in the center of her chest, right at the apex of her ribs, an ache which worked its way into her heart and never seemed to leave, hurts a little more on some nights than others. But it’s an ongoing process.

Moving on.

From her perch on the roof, the city seems so still and quiet. Lights are blinking from some far-off source in the distance. The shadow of the city in the distance is seemingly shimmering with the weight of all it holds—all the living, both human and animal; all the industry and enterprise, the big corporate chains and small, private little coffee shops she and the girls frequented; all the lives shaped in and around the city, intertwining and knotting in places when people meet, weaving around and barely passing each other.

It both overwhelms and astonishes Lexa—the amount of anything and everything occurring outside her own life’s orbit. She wants to experience it all, she wants to absorb it, see it all. But she’s just one person.

From her perch on the roof in the middle of the wild and loud college town she’s come to call her home away from home, everything seems possible and impossible all at once.

She can see Anya in one corner of the backyard with a number of people. Her roommate laughs at something someone says, standing beside a girl she had introduced as her lab partner, Raven, at the beginning of the school year. Raven holds both her and Anya’s drinks in her hands as Anya reaches back to tie her hair. And even from the roof, Lexa can see Raven’s brown eyes looking everywhere but at Anya’s toned arms as she ties her hair up.

Octavia, one of Raven’s roommates, stands across from them, her braid a mess from dancing. But regardless, she has a smile on her face as she watches Raven with a knowing smile. Lincoln comes up behind Octavia and kisses the side of her head as he hands a drink to her, drawing an even wider smile from the girl. Bellamy, whom Lexa notices is standing in their circle as well, just shakes his head—but even from her position on top of the roof, she can see the hint of an approving smile on his face.

The brunette smiles to herself at Lincoln’s small display of affection, thankful that he is still the soft and kind person she had met in third grade despite how hard the world (and his rigorous football workouts) tries to make him.

And her roommate, Anya, who puts up this tough girl, sarcastic, inherent asshole act but is actually one of the most affectionate people she has ever met—even if she displays her affection in the most minute and unusual (and sometimes violent) of ways. Lexa understands.

And then there’s Raven, whom Lexa regards as one of the most—if not, _the_ most—intelligent and smart and _humble_ people she’s ever met. Whose humor doesn’t go a day without appreciation, and wit matches that of Anya’s, but the two of them are too caught up trying to roast each other’s asses in the classroom (and on their respective intramural ultimate frisbee teams) to realize how much they actually have in common.

And one of Raven’s roommates, Octavia, who always reminds her to kickback and cruise with her free spirit. And Bellamy, who’s a year up from them like Lincoln, who always means well and does his best to look out for those close to him, giving advice where he can.

And then there’s Roan, who’s stubborn as hell but makes up for it with his humility and charisma.

The only person Lexa doesn’t see in her circle of friends downstairs is Clarke, Raven’s other roommate, whom she had met during summer orientation. Lexa couldn’t get a grip on Clarke—they had officially become friends after their third? fourth time  _ coincidentally _ running into each other. Clarke, with all her loud laughs and quiet struggles, with her big heart and blue eyes. All her subtle glances and lingering touches.

And it’s intriguing how their group interacts together. How they came to be with all their personalities, all their little habits and mannerisms, their upbringing and lives. Lexa’s dad always talked about something called distance decay, where things that are closer together experience more interaction than things that are farther apart. But somehow, with Raven and her roommates living in a dorm across campus from Lexa and Anya’s; Bellamy and Lincoln living as roommates in sophomore housing that wasn’t even on-campus with Roan and Miller, they were all closer than ever. Maybe it was their late night Skype study sessions (when they were all too lazy to meet up somewhere) that pulled them closer together. Maybe it was their flow when they were all together, seldom interrupted by any negative outside force but always welcoming of any other.

Somehow, they’re all here right now. Of all the people they could have met here on campus, all the people in the world and all the lives they could have lived, they all ended up meeting in this one. Their circle of friends was just the merging of two smaller circles into a bigger one; and their circle merged seamlessly. If there was a zombie apocalypse, she wouldn’t mind having the six of them at her side. They were a support system for one another. A unit. A squad. But more importantly, a kru.

(“Tree crew!” Octavia says once.

“What?” Raven asks. “Where’d you get ‘tree’ from?”

“All the weed we fuckin’ smoke thanks to Mr. Azgeda over here. All hail King Roan, first of his name, Planter of Trees, Breaker of Rules. Provider of Weed. King of. Chewing ice. Seriously, who does that?”

Roan looks at Raven and just shrugs. “King Roan. I like it.”)

A knock from the window pulls her from her thoughts, barely audible over the sound of the music.

Lexa turns and her heart swells at the familiar face behind the glass, and nods once before turning back to face the city. She hears the scrape of the window and scuff of shoes against the sandpaper-like tiling. Clarke takes a seat beside her, red Solo cup in hand, blue eyes dark underneath the shadows. She smells a little like booze and a lot like smoke, and part of her hair is tied back to keep her bangs from her face, one of Lexa’s favorite looks on her. Their shoulders are just touching, and neither acknowledge it, but neither pull away.

That was something else that played on the back of Lexa’s mind tonight. There was something unspoken between the two of them that wasn’t addressed. Not by the circle, and especially not by the two of them.

It happened along the lines of when they were all becoming friends. It’s a hell of a long story about how Clarke and Lexa had met but after everything was sorted and all their friends were together, the two just… gravitated towards one another as fall quarter went on. No one else in the circle ever really pointed out, nor did they mind, when Clarke and Lexa were just _with_ each other.

Anya never minded last quarter when she came back from her late lab and saw Clarke and Lexa studying on the floor of their room, or side by side in bed watching a movie, or lying opposite ways beside each other in bed just reading or drawing or writing in comfortable silence.

Lincoln never pointed out how, like he always sat beside Octavia whenever all of them grabbed food, Lexa always sat beside Clarke. Or how Clarke ran from the brunette’s room across campus to the lecture hall where Lexa was about to take her midterm to deliver what she thought was a forgotten test taking booklet—only to discover that Lexa had packed an extra; almost like how Lincoln had walked across campus to Octavia in a sudden flash storm of rain with an umbrella to walk her back to her dorm because she didn’t carry an umbrella that day.

Raven never mentioned how sometimes Anya would stay over late to work on a lab report with her, much like how Clarke would stay over late at Lexa’s to do homework. More often than not, Anya would end up taking Clarke’s bed for the night, and Clarke Anya’s.

Octavia always pretended not to see Clarke and Lexa huddled together with one another during their circle’s kickbacks at Lincoln and Bellamy’s apartment, or how they always seemed to be in contact with one another, whether it’s very inconspicuous cuddling during the massive sleepovers held at Lincoln and Bellamy’s apartment or elbows touching in the lecture hall.

And Bellamy and Roan seemed to witness all of this from the forefront at the coffee shop they worked at, which Clarke and Lexa frequent almost every morning before class. Whether it’s subtle hand holding or legs brushing underneath the table, or the fact that their faces were always closer than what was deemed appropriate for _just friends_ whenever they spoke.

But none of them had ever calmed Lexa down when she was in the midst of a panic attack like Clarke did, or heard the things Lexa heard Clarke say about herself when she wasn’t quite herself in one of her spirals.

(They did notice, however, when the two would hold hands on some days for no reason—at least, no reason to the extent of their own knowledge.)

There was a line to be drawn with _close friends_ , and just _other._ Not enemies, not quite friends, not quite girlfriends, but something in between. Whenever the circle was all together, it felt so pure and organic and seamless. But whenever Lexa and Clarke were together, it was all of that but most of all, it felt… _natural_. They had technically met over the summer, but it was as if they had known each other far longer than that, as if their coexistence was written in the stars long before they would ever meet.

It was all quite confusing for those in the circle who were not Lexa and Clarke, waiting for the floodgates to open. But especially confusing for Lexa and Clarke.

Clarke bumps Lexa’s shoulder with her own. “How high do you have to be to be sitting on the roof at someone’s party all by yourself like this?” she asks, her eyes playful as she offers Lexa a smile. “Without your shoes on, I might add.”

The brunette returns it but doesn’t speak, and Clarke directs her attention to the city.

“Party get too loud for you?” she asks the brunette quietly, knowing full well that Lexa didn’t mind loud music or parties at all. But she also knew the other girl’s boundaries, and her best move would be to prod, not push.

Lexa’s head tilts in the slightest motion towards the blonde when she pulls Lexa’s hand into her lap. She rubs around her healing knuckles from when the brunette had accidentally punched her bedpost during one of her episodes, massaging her hand so it relaxes against her own. “A little,” Lexa tells her as quietly as the music inside permits.

“I couldn’t find you after they played that one song,” Clarke says after a moment. Lexa almost sighs, wondering why she ever told Clarke about that song in the first place, but it was _Clarke_.

“It was a dance remix,” Lexa tells her, hating how shaky her breathing is. “Not the studio recording.” She takes a deep breath, hoping to fill the tremor in her chest.

“Still,” the blonde says simply, looking over at Lexa. “I know what it means to you.” The blonde’s hand is warm in Lexa’s cold palms.

She turns her palm to better hold Clarke’s. “Meant,” she corrects her. “Costia and I are over.”

“I know you are. Finn and I are, too,” Clarke says patiently. “Doesn’t mean the songs we associate with them still can’t hurt. Or the fact that they’re both thousands of miles away at whatever colleges they’re at and we couldn’t make it work.”

The brunette sighs through her nose at Clarke’s words, a signal of her surrender. “What do you want, Clarke?” she asks, and it comes off much more hostile than she had intended.

Clarke drops her gaze, slipping her hand out from the other girl’s. She stands. “Nothing. I was just checking up on you. I can go.”

“No—wait,” the brunette says, catching Clarke’s arm. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to feel unwelcome. I’m just a little on edge.”

“Quite literally, I would say,” Clarke tells her, nodding towards the rooftop on which they are sitting and drawing a laugh out of Lexa. She sits back down but doesn’t take Lexa’s hand again.

“Yeah. Some nights are harder than others, that’s all.” She looks towards Clarke, who nods reassuringly, and her heart feels a little less heavy.

The blonde returns Lexa’s gaze. “You know, you scared me for a moment there.” Lexa’s gaze softens. “For a second there, I thought… you were going to make me leave and smoke this blunt all by myself.”

Lexa lets out a bark of laughter, scooting closer to Clarke. “I would never. But Clarke—how and where the fuck did you find more weed? I thought you ran out back on the dance floor.”

“That is none of your concern as of right now,” the other girl tells her, pulling out a small metal tin and extracting a blunt, rolled and packed tight. She twirls it in her fingers. “There are more important questions to ask, like this one: do you happen to have a lighter on you? Because I lost mine.”

The brunette laughs and Clarke leans closer when she sees the lighter Lexa pulls from her pocket.

“You familiar with the term ‘shotgunning’?” she asks Lexa, flicking the lighter a few times.

Sparks crackle around the blue-yellow flame when the butane catches. Lexa blows it out. “Like in a car? When you get the passenger seat?”

The blonde thinks she can _hear_ Lexa’s accent thicken when she asks that, and her face breaks out into a grin. “ _No_ , dummy,” she says. “With weed. We haven’t talked about this before?” Her eyes widen in disbelief when Lexa gives her another look of confusion. “This is going to be me repaying you for all the times you helped me with my math homework all quarter, okay?”

“You don’t have to repay me, Clarke—” Lexa begins but Clarke shushes her, setting her cup aside.

“Just sit facing me, okay? I’ll show you.”

* * *

 

“Look at those two idiots up there,” Anya says, smirking and watching Clarke and Lexa up on the roof. “Lexa and Clarke, sitting on the roof. S-M-O-K-I-N-G.”

“That’s a new one,” Roan says, and Anya grins.

“Thank you, I came up with it myself,” she tells her, and everyone laughs.

“Hey, where’s that blunt I gave you?” Raven asks Anya, returning to her side after leaving to use the bathroom. “They just ran out of alcohol inside, I’m ready to blow this popsicle stand. Make it go BOOM!”

“Cool it, Hottie McThottie,” Anya says lightly, laughing when Raven pouts. She rummages around in the pockets of her leather jacket, pulling out a lighter and a few receipts from various stores. She checks around her jean pockets and only finds her phone, another lighter, and a nearly empty pack of cigarettes. “What the fuck? Where is it?”

Bellamy leans over. “I think I may have an idea of what Clarke and Lexa are smoking up on the roof,” he tells Anya, smirking and holding his hands up in defense when Anya flicks him on the side of the head.

“Clarke _pick_ pocketed me?” Anya seethes, but her attitude is more bark than bite.

“Learned from the best,” Roan offers, grinning deviously, and Anya flicks him on the head as well.

“You both are the worst,” she tells them, smiling despite herself. “I’ll make this up to you, Rae, I’m sorry, but,” she says her as she starts making her way indoors, “I think I’m going to have to kill your roommate.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Raven pulls her back, looking towards Octavia. “Which one?” She asks, and Octavia subsequently flips her off. “Don’t,” she says when Anya stops laughing at their interaction, and now it’s Anya’s turn to pout. But the other girl just points up towards where Clarke and Lexa are sitting. “Look. I think Princess and Commander Heart Eyes are having a moment.”

“When aren’t they having a moment?” Bellamy asks, chuckling as he shakes his head. “We’ve been back for a week and they’ve had like fifty already.”

“Is it _ the _ moment?” Octavia asks, following Raven’s gaze up to the rooftop.

Anya’s about to respond but instead takes a second to restart her brain when she realizes that Raven’s touch lingered, neither of them pulling away. She catches Raven’s eye.

“You know who else is having a moment?” Anya overhears Lincoln whisper to Octavia, and the whole circle breaks into a mess of laughter and yelling. Raven just leans against the backyard fence, stretching out one of her legs and grinning to herself as the commotion unfolds.

* * *

 

Lexa turns around at the sound of the yelling, laughing when she sees Anya basically chasing Lincoln around the perimeter of the backyard, weaving between partygoers and beer pong tables alike.

“What’s going on down there, huh?” she asks, turning back towards the blonde, her hands hovering in front of Clarke’s face.

“Comparing their final grades, no doubt,” Clarke tells her, leaning in. “Cover the breeze so I can get this, please?”

The brunette nods. Clarke leans back into Lexa’s hands outstretched hands, successfully lighting the end of the blunt and leaning back, the smoke trailing in front of her.

“So what exactly are we doing?” Lexa asks, blowing out a stream of smoke, watching as Clarke plays with the smoke between her cheeks before exhaling.

“I can show you, but you’re gonna have to get real close,” Clarke tells her, taking the blunt back from Lexa.

“How close?” Lexa asks. She can’t tell if the music got louder or her heart just decided to beat in her throat.

Clarke taps the end of her nose, smiling. “This close. Almost. I’ll try a variation of it on you first.”

Lexa tries to ignore the rush of heat creeping up on her neck. “What does that mean? There’s more than one way to shotgun?”

“Depends on how well you perform on your first shotgun, babes,” the blonde tells her. “Now, get close and inhale.”

Lexa barely has time to register what she’s doing before she sees Clarke flip the blunt around in her mouth so the lit end is held precariously between her teeth, careful not to crush it. She feels a gentle hand around the nape of her neck as Clarke pulls her closer, and she blows a stream smoke out from the end of the blunt into the air between them, which Lexa inhales.

She blows it back into the blonde’s face before coughing twice. Clarke smiles, putting the end of the blunt with the filter back in her mouth and inhaling once.

“Not bad, Commander,” she tells the other girl, smoke streaming out of her mouth as she holds the blunt between two fingers on her free hand. Lexa grins at the use of her old nickname. “Better than me my first time.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

“Who did you shotgun with the first time?”

The other girl smiles. “Doesn’t matter now.”

It’s now that Lexa realizes Clarke’s hand is still on the nape of her neck, and the music _definitely_ hasn’t gotten louder. She wonders if Clarke can feel her heart beating in her damn throat from where her hand’s positioned on her neck.

“Eyes up here, Commander,” Clarke tells her quietly, laughing when she sees Lexa flush.

Her green eyes flick from the blonde’s lips up to her blue eyes and back down to her lips.

Clarke furrows her eyebrows slightly, watching the other girl closely. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Well, you’ve got a little mole above your lip,” Lexa says softly. Her hand comes up and a fingertip ghosts over the spot on Clarke’s face, and Lexa’s voice is so small and so _Lexa_ that Clarke’s chest can’t seem the bear the size of her heart in that moment.

“Is that what you’ve been staring at all night? You almost missed the smoke when I shotgunned it to you.”

Lexa just nods, and the other girl breaks out into laughter, shoulders gently shaking as she pulls back slightly. Her neck goes cold from the absence of the other girl’s hand on her neck, but she joins Clarke in her laughter, falling against the blonde’s shoulder instead.

Both don’t quite realize what’s happening yet. It is more Lexa feeling the laughter thrum through Clarke’s chest, and Clarke realizing how low Lexa’s top actually dips.

It is more Lexa realizing just how close they’re sitting together after their laughter dies down, and just how much she likes being with Clarke like this.

It is more Clarke realizing what an intriguing dynamic the two of them share, and how she doesn’t think she’s ever shared such a dynamic with anyone else.

It is more so how they both know almost every little thing about each other despite the period of time they’ve known one another, but they never want to stop learning more.

But it is also more so how they are both aware of how there is a line drawn between them, and whether or not they’re willing to cross it.

Lexa thinks back to a warm October night,—El Niño was really fucking around with their weather—of jacuzzis and bathing suits and one very particular room 214.

Lexa pulls back first, brushing a strand of hair that had fallen back behind her ear. There’s an apology on the tip of her tongue, but Clarke speaks first.

“We can try the other method of shotgunning if you want,” she says quietly over the music. She hands the blunt over to Lexa when the brunette nods, fingertips brushing. “You inhale this time. Normally, through the other end. Not like how I did it.”

Lexa leans back a bit and holds the blunt in front of her face, waiting for further instruction.

“Don’t blow the smoke out when you inhale. Just… kind of, push it out, you know? With your cheeks.”

Lexa nods.

“And don’t freak out when I do the other part of it. Or try not to. Or just tell me to stop.”

The brunette nods again.

Clarke leans forward. “Whenever you’re ready.”

The end of the blunt glows as Lexa inhales, and when she takes the blunt away, Clarke leans even closer, tilting her face so their noses don’t brush. Lexa thinks Clarke’s going to kiss her instead, and almost forgets what she’s supposed to do.

But the blonde stops, her lips inches from Lexa’s. Smoke rolls from Lexa’s lips into the gap between them before disappearing into Clarke’s.

The last thing Lexa hears is a little gasp from Clarke as she clears the air of smoke around them. Then Clarke’s hand finds its way to the nape of Lexa’s neck again, and she pulls her in for a kiss.

It’s brief—Lexa’s a little out of breath from exhaling, and Clarke’s still got smoke in her lungs; but her lips are soft and she tastes a little like the cheap beer she was drinking—but neither of them really care. They separate with a quiet _pop_ , and the blonde watches in almost eager anticipation as the other girl suddenly remembers how to breathe. Her lidded eyes meet Clarke’s gaze, cheeks flushed and lip trembling.

Worry works its way into Clarke’s system, and she blows out the remainder of smoke. She sits back slightly to better look Lexa in the eye. “I’m sorry—was that okay? Are you okay?”

Lexa blushes even more. “Yeah, yeah,” she tells her, despite the fact that her nerves are frayed at every end just from Clarke’s kiss. The other girl rubs the jut of Lexa’s jaw gently as she waits for her to speak. “Is… is kissing part of shotgunning?”

The edges of the other girl’s eyes crease when she smiles, because it’s _Lexa_ , and she can be so damn clueless sometimes.

“No, not usually,” she tells her, and her blue eyes don’t miss when Lexa’s green falter, her gaze falling. “But we can keep doing that, if you like.”

Lexa nods against Clarke’s hand, not even trying to hide her smile. The blunt falls somewhere on the roof when the brunette’s hands go to hold Clarke’s head between her hands as their lips meet for another kiss, noses bumping. The blonde’s tongue brushes Lexa’s bottom lip, and Lexa breathes in Clarke like her lungs crave her instead of oxygen. Her breath barely reaches on Clarke’s lips when they part before she’s being consumed by another kiss. Clarke smiles into the kiss, her hand shifting to cup Lexa’s jaw.

There’s a pull on the brunette’s bottom lip as Clarke actually bites her bottom lip and Lexa can’t help the moan in the back of her throat. Clarke’s teeth are quickly replaced by the warmth of her tongue as she soothes the bite mark, and the brunette’s tongue eagerly goes to meet hers. Their heads move in conjunction with one another as they pull each other impossibly closer in another kiss.

Lexa’s careful when she pulls Clarke closer to her—they are sitting twelve feet off the ground on top of a roof, after all. Clarke rests her hands on Lexa’s knees, leaning closer without losing traction on the tiles.

* * *

 

“Did she… did she just drop my fucking blunt into her cup?” Anya asks, hands on top of her head as she turns towards Raven. “You saw that right? She dropped my blunt into her cup! They only took like four hits!”

Raven’s hands go to lower Anya’s now outstretched ones, grinning at the other girl’s outburst. “Don’t worry, babe, I’ll roll you another one,” she tells her, her hands finding their way into Anya’s calloused palms. “About fucking time they kissed though.”

“That punk thinks she can pickpocket me and just throw away my—wait, did you just call me ‘babe’?”

She sees Raven send a wink Bellamy’s way before she turns back towards Anya, whose cheeks are tinged pink and hazel eyes are wide. “Was that okay?”

“Only if I can call you Rae Bay-bay,” Anya tells her, smirking.

“You’re gross.”

“You love it. You love me.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Am not!”

“You were running around chasing Lincoln when he was literally just fast-walking away from you!”

“He’s like a head taller than me, let me live.”

Raven just laughs and plants a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

* * *

 

The music finally dies down, enough for Clarke to hear Raven and Anya squabbling on the ground below them.

“Are those two at it again?” Clarke breathes when they come up for air, her forehead pressed gently against Lexa’s.

“Bickering like an old married couple, as per usual,” Lexa tells her, and Clarke drops a kiss on the edge of her lips.

“When aren’t they, though?” She kisses the other corner of Lexa’s mouth, and they share another kiss. It’s chaste and very, very brief, but Clarke doesn’t miss the moment when the other girl smiles against her lips.

Clarke pulls back and rests her head against Lexa’s once more. Her hands run along the column of Lexa’s neck down to the crook of her shoulders. Lexa’s thumbs brush along the line of the other girl’s jaw. It is as if the world has come to a standstill. The house is no longer shaking with the music, the sounds of kids playing beer pong seem so far away. The city lights are still twinkling, and Lexa is holding Clarke in her hands like she is the one thing tethering her to the earth.

“So what happens now?” the brunette asks, her breath ghosting over Clarke’s lips.

The blonde backs up just enough to look Lexa in the eyes, shimmering under the low light.

“We can go back to your room and shotgun some more, if you like.”

The corners of the brunette’s mouth lift up, and Clarke grins in response.

“I would like that a lot.”   
  


**Author's Note:**

> idk i was trying to write another fic but this happened. penny for your thoughts?  
> also come say hi on tumblr if you want :-) turtleduckdates.tumblr.com  
> EDIT 15 MAR 2016 i just fixed a typo in this. like. 2 days later. i'm embarrassed


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